The Daughters Of Red Hill Hall (31 page)

Rebecca looked up in confusion at Spencer. All those words he was saying and yet none of them were going in. Charles was alive! It was all she could think about. But Spencer was expecting a reply. She nodded, and it seemed to satisfy him for he bustled off, leaving her alone. She picked up the letter and read it through again to make sure she had understood its message. Yes, she had. Charles was alive!

Spencer was back within minutes with water for her – which she did not want – a pen and a sheet of notepaper. She scribbled a note quickly – of course Charles was welcome and she looked forward to seeing him. If he only knew how much she looked forward to it! Spencer was dispatched immediately to send the letter, and Rebecca spent the rest of the day calculating when Charles might arrive.

It was after lunch the following day, a dark and rainy day, when Rebecca was disturbed from her reading (although if truth be told, she had read the same page of Cowper’s verse a dozen times and still could not have said what it was about) by a commotion in the hallway. She rushed out of the drawing room to find Charles, removing a sodden cloak, and answering excited questions from Tilly and another maid, while Spencer tried to calm the girls.

‘Yes, as you can see, I am not dead. No, it was not me in the well, although I am currently wet enough for you to believe I am drowned. No, I have been away. Abroad. On business, and what that was is none of yours, Tilly!’

‘Now, now, Tilly and Mary. Off you go back to your chores. Tilly, hang Mr de Witt’s cloak before the range in the kitchen so it has a chance to dry. Ah, Miss Winton. I was about to show Mr de Witt in to you…’ Spencer had a sparkle in his eye and was doing a poor job at suppressing a smile. Rebecca felt her heart jump. After so much tragedy, here at last was some good news for Red Hill Hall! As she approached Charles, her hand outstretched to shake his, she wondered whether there might be a tiny chance they could rekindle their relationship in time.

‘Miss Winton. I am so very glad to see you again.’ Charles bowed formally and then took her hand and kissed it. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver coursing through her.

‘And I am delighted to see you again,’ she replied, as she led the way into the drawing room. She took a seat near the fire, which had been lit to take the chill off the day despite it only being September.

Charles sat opposite her. ‘We have much to talk about. I am glad you allowed me to call today. I confess – I am hoping we might be able to put the past behind us and perhaps start again as friends.’

Rebecca flinched internally at those words ‘as friends’ at the end of his speech – did he mean that he did not want their relationship to be any deeper? Well, it was a start, and perhaps in time they might grow closer once more. She nodded and smiled at him. ‘Yes, I hope so too. So tell me. After you spoke with me that day when you broke off our engagement, you did not come back to the hall. We saw you only once more, at Papa’s funeral. And then we heard nothing more from you. Where did you go? A few weeks later, there was the grisly discovery of the body in the well.’

‘As I said in my letter, I was called away on business. It is true I did not return to the hall, but I did see Miss Cooper a couple of times, whilst out riding. I think she may have intentionally ridden where she knew I might be. Our encounters were too frequent to be entirely accidental. The last time I saw her was just the day before I went away. I had received news that meant I would need to leave for London on the early coach, and was having one last gallop across the fields to clear my mind, knowing it would be the last chance I’d have. I came across Miss Cooper that day. We rode a short way together, and I told her I was leaving in the morning, and asked her to pass the message on to you. I did not want you to think I was snubbing you by staying away.’

‘She did not pass on the message.’

‘It seems not. And from London I had to travel to the Continent. I wrote to you, once, from London to say I would be away for some time.’

‘I never received that letter.’ Sarah must have intercepted it, Rebecca realised.

Charles looked at her. ‘Because I had no reply, I did not dare to write again. I thought your lack of response was your way of telling me you wanted no further contact. The trip to France and Italy, while it is true it was partly for business, if I am to be entirely honest it was also designed to put you out of my mind. I had no news from home while I travelled, for I did not stay in any one place long enough to receive letters. It was only when I returned to London that I found out about Miss Cooper’s death, your own injury, and the rumours of my own death. I wrote to you immediately.’

‘I am so glad you did,’ Rebecca replied softly.

‘So now, please, tell me of the events here after I went away. From your father’s funeral onwards.’ Charles leaned forward expectantly.

‘Very well. I need to start by telling you about the contents of Papa’s will,’ she began.

‘His will? Surely there were no surprises in it?’ Charles stared at her.

‘On the contrary – it was quite a shock. He had assumed, you see, that I would marry you and would be well provided for by your own fortune. He therefore left Red Hill Hall to Sarah.’

‘What?’

She pressed her lips together and nodded. ‘Yes, Sarah inherited everything.’

‘Why on earth? I mean, I would have expected him to provide for her in some way, perhaps a legacy or an annuity from the estate, but you were his only surviving relative, and should have inherited the hall, regardless of your matrimonial state.’ Charles shook his head in disbelief.

Rebecca thought for a moment. Should she tell him now about the letters she’d seen? He still, as far as she knew, thought Sarah had been a sweet, innocent girl. He had cared for her. Telling him about the letters, and the other secrets she’d uncovered in the diary, would shatter his illusions about her for good. But maybe that was not a bad thing. ‘Charles, prepare yourself for you may find this next part distasteful. I have discovered that Sarah was blackmailing my father. I believe she manipulated him into changing his will in her favour.’

‘What? How? And how did you find out?’ Charles’s eyes were wide.

‘Do you mind if I don’t go into the details just yet? But the evidence is substantial. I’m sorry, Charles. I know you liked her.’

‘I appreciated her company when I was riding. That is all.’

Rebecca raised her eyebrows slightly. He seemed to want to distance himself from Sarah now. ‘To continue, then – Sarah became mistress of the house. She informed me she wanted me to move out and find some other accommodation. I had no idea what I would do or where I would go, but she reluctantly agreed to give me some time to organise things. And then the body was found in the well.’

‘How was it discovered?’ If Charles sat any nearer the edge of his seat he would topple off and onto the floor, Rebecca thought.

‘The well is not often used nowadays, but sometimes water is brought from it to replenish water troughs for the animals in a dry spell. The water came up bad, and a man was lowered on a rope to investigate. It was assumed an animal must have fallen in. He found the corpse and it was then pulled up and brought to the stables here.’

‘Why was it assumed to be me? I don’t understand!’

‘The body was partly decomposed and, I’m told, unrecognisable. But it was wearing your jacket – a dark green riding coat. I did not look closely, but Sarah did and it was she who confirmed the body was you. He, whoever he is, has been buried at the edge of the churchyard. Sarah paid for the funeral.’

‘I don’t understand. How could he have been wearing my coat? Oh!’ Charles clapped his forehead. ‘I left a jacket here once – it had become muddied after a fall from my horse when riding with Sarah. Many months ago. Spencer said he’d have it cleaned and returned to me, but then I forgot all about it, and never retrieved it. Somehow the dead man must have got hold of it.’

Rebecca stared at him. ‘It was Sarah who recognised your coat. I wonder if perhaps she passed it on to the dead man…’

‘But who was he?’ Charles stood and paced around the room. ‘If he’s local then surely someone would have reported him missing…’

‘There is someone who has been reported missing,’ Rebecca said, slowly.

‘Could that be the man in the well?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, I think it could be. Sarah knew the missing man – his name was Jed Arthur. He lived in a cottage on the estate. She may have given him the jacket.’ She did not want to tell him just how well Sarah had known Jed.

‘But then, surely, she’d have identified the corpse as this other man, rather than me? Unless for some reason she wanted people to think it was me and not him? It’s all very strange. But you have not finished telling me of all the events. I realise it must be very painful for you to recall, but please tell me how Miss Cooper’s death came about.’

Rebecca took her time answering. This was it. Should she tell him the full truth? Would he understand? Or would he report her to the authorities as a murderer? The burden of carrying the secret and not being able to talk to anyone about it was overwhelming at times. If only she could confide in Charles! But she dared not risk it.

She told him the same story she had told the constable. That she’d caught a glimpse of a man with the two pistols but had not seen his face. That she struggled to remember very much of what happened.

Charles’s expression was one of deep concern and compassion as she spoke. He was accepting her words as the truth. And why shouldn’t he? She had never given him any reason to doubt her.

‘So the constable is still looking for the murderer?’

Rebecca flinched at the last word. What would he think if he realised he was talking to Sarah’s killer? ‘When Jed Arthur was reported missing, the constable assumed that he’d carried out the shooting and then run away and gone into hiding. They’re still searching for him.’

‘But now we suspect the body in the well was this Jed Arthur. So he could not have been the gunman, because he was found in the well before the shooting occurred.’ Charles frowned, and stopped pacing, standing before her.

‘No. It cannot have been Jed.’ Rebecca said quietly.

He was quiet for a moment, as though reflecting on what he had heard. Then he stood abruptly, as though he had come to some decision. ‘I must leave you now, Miss Winton. I must meet with the magistrate and the constable, and prove that I am still alive and therefore not the man in the well. With your permission I will suggest they follow up the idea that it might be Jed Arthur. That means they will now be looking for someone else for the shooting.’ He looked carefully at her. ‘I hope that doesn’t cause you any problems.’

‘Not at all. They must investigate fully,’ she said.

Charles looked at her quizzically. ‘Perhaps we shall never know who it was.’

She smiled. ‘Perhaps not.’

He stood to leave, but she laid a restraining hand on his arm. ‘One last thing. Please, can you tell me truthfully why you broke off our engagement?’

He sat down again, this time at her side. ‘I was so sorry for you that day. It was a terrible thing for me to do. I cannot tell you how awful I felt when I left you. But I thought I had done the right thing. I – I was given to understand that you had only accepted me out of a sense of duty, and that secretly you were devastated by the idea of marrying me.’ He stopped speaking, looked down at his hands and sighed. ‘You want the truth, and you deserve it. It was Miss Cooper. She told me you did not want me, and that the best thing for both of us would be if I called it off, sooner rather than later. She was your best friend, your adopted sister, and I believed that she knew your heart and was acting in your best interests. I am so sorry.’ He took her hand. ‘Miss Winton, Rebecca, I would like to know – I need to know – whether Miss Cooper was telling me the truth.
Did
you only accept me out of a sense of duty?’

Rebecca shook her head. ‘No. Not at all. I accepted you because I wanted nothing more than to be married to you. I was never happier than during that brief period when we were engaged.’

He smiled. ‘Then there is hope for us yet, dear Rebecca.’

Chapter 29

August 2015

‘Don’t touch that!’ Ben screamed, knocking Gemma’s hand away from the light switch. ‘The flat is full of gas. Go outside and call the gas company. I’ll get the windows open and turn the gas off at the mains. Go!’

Gemma hesitated, wondering whether it was safe for Ben to go into the flat, but he’d already gone in and she could hear him rummaging in the hall cupboard where the gas meter and shut-off valve were. She hurried downstairs, pulling out her phone. What was the number you called to report a gas leak? She had no idea so pressed 999 instead and reported the problem. The operator confirmed the message would be passed on, and asked if anyone was in the building.

‘My boyfriend. And my neighbour in the downstairs flat.’ Gemma felt herself growing panicky.

‘Get them out of the building if you can,’ the operator advised.

‘Ben! Get out!’ Gemma shouted up the stairs, while simultaneously banging on her downstairs’ neighbour’s door. ‘Alan! You need to get out – there’s been a gas leak in my flat!’

The door opened and her elderly neighbour Alan appeared, in his dressing gown and slippers.

‘Alan, come outside, now. There’s been a gas leak upstairs. I’ve called the emergency services.’ She took his arm and led him out.

‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ Alan muttered, as they made their way outside. ‘What a thing to happen.’ Thankfully Ben came running down the stairs as well, and they all left the building and went up the street a little way.

‘I opened all the windows,’ Ben said. ‘And turned off the gas at the mains. It should clear quickly. Wonder what caused it?’

‘Funny. Your friend said nothing about a smell of gas when she was here earlier. I have no sense of smell, so I didn’t pick it up. Thank you for rescuing me, Gemma,’ said Alan. He looked a little shaky.

‘Here, sit on this garden wall,’ she said, helping him onto it. ‘I can hear sirens. The police will be here soon. What friend?’